Thursday, July 05, 2012

Flakey

Okay, enough time wasting. Besides, there's only so much Octomom porn a guy can watch – it’s time for an update.

How is everybody? It’s been four months since I logged on last. I heard a whole bunch of people died since late February, fuck I hope it wasn’t you guys. That would make me sad, and I don’t want to cry because I am eating a bowl of French onion soup while I type this.
One of my greatest fears is crying while eating soup, because your tears keep filling up the bowl no matter how fast you eat, and you end up in this never ending cycle of sobbing and eating. I heard a guy once exploded because of this.

I’m actually feeling pretty good at the moment, having recently gotten over a bad cold I had for a few weeks. I felt pretty run down during that period, but I must admit I have felt far worse. I was bed ridden with a throat virus this time last year that was pure agony, for three straight days it felt like razors every time I swallowed and it drove me to the brink of insanity. Just as I was getting over that, a flu kicked in that left me in bed for a further week, and pretty throttled for over a month.
But that was last year, this year has been pretty healthy.

Only other complaint was a migraine I had about a month ago. My parents were staying over, and I hit the pub with my old man, followed by a couple of bottles of red over dinner. A combination of tiredness (I had a 6am start that day) and dehydration helped infest my brain with a migraine later that night. I knew it wasn’t simply a bad headache, because the bathroom lights (I was on the way to the toilet to throw up) felt like stab wounds to my eyes. My mother found me crawling down the hallway muttering in some kind of Flemish dialect, and put me to bed. I lay there in a state of extreme nausea, while my skull felt like there were chainsaws fucking inside it. I started speaking in Dub Step. Rough stuff – but I’m lucky to only get migraines once every few years, my mother, whom I inherited the trait off of, gets them three or four times a year. Anyway, enough about sickness.

In more recent news, I wandered into my lounge room today to find some kind of caveman death threat scrawled on my couch in a brownish painting material. Either that, or a whole bunch of stray dogs with worms had some kind of ass scratching race across the cushions.
Took me a while to realise the origins of the mess. I was lying on the couch watching Dexter last night and eating a Cadbury Flake bar. Not sure if that is a global form of confectionery, so think of a chocolate bar that crumbles like a motherfucker and you are not far off. I vaguely remember thinking “I should clean all this chocolate up” as I drifted off to sleep. I woke an hour later, switched the TV off, and went to bed. Today's evidence suggests I rolled around in the chocolate, letting my body heat melt it into the cushions as I slumbered.